


The Death of a Golem

by amoleofmonsters



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character Death, Depression, Dissociation, Future Fic, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 11:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoleofmonsters/pseuds/amoleofmonsters
Summary: Many have once said that the desert has spiritual properties. Keith's not sure he believes it, but he still returned all the same.





	The Death of a Golem

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took me far too long and there's a lot I want to say about it, but for now I will only say two things:  
> 1) The characters are 30 during the events of this work.  
> 2) If you ship any of the pairings tagged, there's a high chance you won't be satisfied.

The desert is endless, hills of sand as far as the eye can see. Heat waves shimmer low to the ground, distorting the surrounding area. Far off entities seem like hallucinations. Animals cower as much as possible: some under rocks, some burrowed into the sand, and others inside makeshift homes. At night, the temperature drops, a strong chill washing over the land. It’s far more hospitable than the scorching heat of the day. For many, this is when life begins.

There is a peaceful, almost spiritual aura to the desert. One can get lost crawling among the sand: physically, but also mentally. Far from human civilization, it is the last bastion untouched by industry. Some once tried to cultivate it, bringing forth fruit from its barren embrace. But these days, few can be convinced to live among the soul-encasing sand. The desert is the ideal home for military operations; there is no one for miles and the few that were there were easily convinced to leave. But even now, some choose to stay.

A few miles from a military base is a decaying home. Abandoned many years ago, it was left to rot among the dust and the lizards. The roofing is a couple sandstorms away from caving in, and one of the windows is held together with nothing but duct tape. On particularly cold nights, the wind chill is unbearable. The home had once protected a number of people before they had left it to the elements. Now, one of them has found his way back, and he resides with a protective nature.

Keith’s father had built the house over the course of many years. It should have protected him, his wife, and their children for years to come. After Keith was born, what should have been a family of three had been reduced to a family of two. Keith’s father was silent on what exactly had befallen his wife, but Keith had gathered a few ideas from the rumors he had heard over the years. At the very least, Keith is certain that he will never stumble upon her in his travels.

Not that Keith expects to travel much in his future. He had returned to his familial home with the desire to live out his final days within its walls. There were far too many memories there for Keith to just leave it be.

There isn’t much to do in a desert shack, but that suits Keith just fine. Every morning, he wakes up with the sun, the curtains so old and threadbare that they no longer keep the harsh rays out. He looks up at the ceiling and follows the cracks with his eyes as he tries not to think about how the bed feels bigger than he remembers.

After he decides that his body has adjusted properly to being awake, Keith slowly sits up and slides out of bed. He feels creaking, but it’s always a toss up whether it’s coming from the ancient mattress or his weary joints.

The coffee he makes has the consistency of sludge and tastes exactly like that sliding down his throat. He scratches his hip through the black boxers he’s wearing, the only piece of clothing he can stand to wear. The heat always makes him want to crawl out of his skin. He eyes the broken air conditioner scattered across the floor, considers dragging it into town to be fixed, then walks past it. He figures that if the building collapses around him it wouldn’t be a shame.

He cracks his joints and shuffles over to his laptop, the one object he owns that isn’t either completely destroyed or threating to fall apart. The military allows him to do remote computer programming work so that he only has to come to the military base once a month. He can thank Pidge for teaching him the skills back when they were still trying to save the universe. Otherwise, he might have had to be somewhat more social in order to survive.

He spends most of the morning hunched over his laptop. Around noon, his stomach remembers that a cup of sludge-like coffee is not sufficient enough to get through the day and lets out a protest. Keith ignores it at first, but eventually he can’t any more. He closes the laptop and stands up, shuffling back over to the kitchen.

Keith knows there is nothing in the fridge but a spoiled yogurt and half a bottle of diet coke. He checks anyway. The door of the fridge pops open with a crack, the hinges long rusted over. The mostly empty contents stare back at him, almost like the universe is giving him a middle finger. He knows that he brought this on himself, but he likes to think it’s some else’s fault.

For a moment, he watches the sunlight from the window reflect off of the dust in the air. He pulls on a black t-shirt and jeans, and shoves his feet into a pair of ratty sneakers without bothering to put on socks. The added layers immediately make him regret what he’s planned for the day. He imagines that when he returns, he’ll be greeted with open arms and soft kisses. It a comforting thought, even if it’s a memory from long ago, and it’s enough to get him out the door. He grabs the air conditioner and drags it outside to strap it to his hover bike. At this point, the bike is so old that all it’s good for is to get him into town.

It takes forty minutes to get into town. Keith came to the desert because there is no one for miles. All there is to be found is sand and one’s own thoughts. No other place in the universe has that kind of silence. Keith loves it for reasons he can’t explain. It’s his home, his true home, in more ways than one.

Before he knows it, he finds himself staring at a row of building off in the distance. The closest town is small, having barely enough stores to get by, but Keith typically only travels there for food and repairs. If he had any other reason to venture out of his home, it might have bothered him.

There’s only one repair store; Keith heads there first. Once he parks his bike, he pulls the air conditioner inside. The bell on the door rings out, and the man at the counter looks up. “What can I help you with?” he asks, giving Keith a once over.

Keith slams the air conditioner on the counter. “Can you fix this?”

The man runs his finger along one of the parts threatening to fall off. “Well, I can’t make any promises, but I’ll take a look. Come back in a few days and this will either be fixed or not.”

Keith nods. “How much will it cost?”

“Also not sure. If you wait a few hours, I can give you an estimation and you can decide whether or not you can pay it then.”

Keith nods again. “Thanks. I’ll be back.”

The door swings shut behind him with another jingle. Keith crosses the street to the only coffee shop in town. It’s one of the most popular places, and even still, it’s only half full. He shuffles up to the counter and orders an iced coffee and a bagel. The far too bored teenager at the counter takes his order in a monotone voice and Keith feels bad for him, almost.

Keith sits himself at a table in the corner of the shop, trying his best to ignore the pool of sweat building at the back of his neck. He’s about to pull out his laptop to get some more work done when he jolts, nearly upending the table’s sitting at onto its side.

The figure in the corner of his eye is the exact height, his shoulders just as broad as Keith remembers them. He has the same undercut and is wearing a bright pink shirt. Keith feels his breath shorten, the ghost of an embrace he hadn’t felt in years surrounding him. He can’t possibly be here. He can’t possibly-

The figure turns around and Keith’s stomach plummets. The man’s face is too thin, too young. There’s no white tuft, no scar across his nose. Keith should have known better, but hope has a funny way of rearing its ugly head. He hates how easy it is for him to remember.

There’s a clink and Keith looks up to see the teenage barista placing his order onto the table. Keith mumbles, “Thank you,” and bites into the bagel. It’s dry, but these days, his stomach doesn’t have much room for excitement.

Distantly, he remembers the smell of eggs and bacon in the morning. He remembers waking up, crawling out of bed, and popping the delicious grease into his mouth. He remembers a warm smile and soft kisses pressed to his temple as the last recesses of sleep slip away.

It doesn’t do him any good to sit around and mope about days long gone. He crams the last of the bagel into his mouth and exits the cafe with his iced coffee. It’s time for him to get some groceries so he can return to the desert once more.

Grocery shopping takes almost no time to the point where Keith wonders why he was dreading it in the first place. He buys enough food to last him for the next few weeks; all of it somehow miraculously fits into five bags. He walks out of the store, and stops in his tracks.

This time, Keith is sure he’s recognized the figure correctly. He’d know that vest and bright yellow shirt anywhere. It takes the other man a second to notice him, but when he does, he yells, “Keith? Keith!” while waving excitedly.

Keith runs. There’s nothing else he can do. He can’t see Hunk, not now, not ever. What was Hunk doing here? It’s been years since Keith had last seen him.

Keith makes it to his bike and drops the groceries into his trunk. He climbs onto it, air conditioner be damned, and speeds out of town. He’ll come back another time, another day, whenever he’s certain that Hunk is gone. Keith can’t see him. He just can’t.

The memories hurt too much.

No matter how much he tries to keep them down, they rip into his consciousness. He sees his smile, Shiro’s smile, as clear as day. He hears Shiro’s laugh, a warm vibrato from deep within his chest. He smells the warm scent of Shiro’s favorite shampoo after he’d just gotten out of the shower. He tastes Shiro’s kisses: the frantic ones, desperate to swallow all of Keith, and the soft and slow ones when they pretended they had all the time in the world.

He feels Shiro’s blood on his skin as he watches the man he loves die in his arms.

Tears spill across his cheeks, hot and ugly.

He makes it home and it’s a miracle. On autopilot, he grabs the groceries and tosses them into the fridge. Then, unable to hold himself up any longer, he collapses onto the floor.

 

_Keith steps through the door ready to shrug off the stress of the day when a sharp burning smell hits his nose. It smells vaguely of charcoal, but stronger and smokier. He pushes through the house to the kitchen as fast as he can. “Shiro! What the hell?” he practically screeches._

_Shiro looks up from the cloud of smoke that is building around the stove and gives Keith a sheepish smile. Keith has seen that smile hundreds of times before when he’d had caught Shiro doing something they both knew he shouldn’t have been. Keith would have found it endearing if it wasn’t for the burning smell infiltrating his nostrils._

_Wordlessly, as if he’d done it a hundred times before because honestly sometimes it felt like he had, Keith picks up the fire extinguisher and aims it directly at the stove. Shiro steps back as Keith sprays whatever now-charred mess was sitting there with a thick layer of foam. Once he’s satisfied that the fire has been doused, he turns to stare at Shiro with his most disappointed expression._

_Shiro scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Oops. Sorry?”_

_Keith rolls his eyes. “What would you have done if I had been even five minutes late coming home?”_

_“I wanted to surprise you with dinner, but I guess that didn’t work out, did it?”_

_And just like that, Keith can’t bring himself to be mad anymore. He puts down the fire extinguisher and gathers Shiro into a hug. “Thank you. It was really sweet of you. Just – maybe next time, at least let me be home when you start cooking.”_

_Shiro nods and kisses the top of Keith’s head. “Well, I burned the last of the frozen chicken. That doesn’t leave us with many options for what we can eat.”_

_Keith laughs and peck’s Shiro’s chin. “I know mac and cheese isn’t the healthiest of meals, but I’m tired and not going back into town tonight. I think we can cheat a bit and take some from the emergency food supply.”_

_Shiro groans. “Are you sure you don’t want me to drive in and pick up something?”_

_“You know we don’t get paid for another three days so get used to canned food. I bought a lot of mac and cheese a while back.”_

_Shiro groans again, but his disgruntled expression doesn’t stay on his face for very long and he pecks Keith on the cheek. Keith grins and gives Shiro a proper kiss on the lips before getting up and sliding into the kitchen._

_It doesn’t take long for Keith to make a makeshift dinner out of macaroni and cheese and frozen peas. When he’s finished, he walks back into the living room to see it empty. “Shiro! Where did you go? Dinner’s ready!”_

_“Bathroom!” yells Shiro from across the house._

_Keith sighs and places the two plates onto the coffee table. He notices that Shiro had thrown his coat directly in the middle of the couch. He picks it up to move it, and feels something heavy drop onto the ground. He leans over to pick it up. It’s a small black box; Keith has seen enough movies to have a guess at what it is. His brain is running a mile a minute and he considers just shoving it back into the coat pocket and pretending he’s none-the-wiser. Before he can, Shiro walks into the living room with a loud, “Alright, let’s eat!”_

_Keith looks up at Shiro, knowing he looks exactly like a kid caught with his hand in a cookie jar. The guilt bubbles in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to do. What if it wasn’t even an engagement ring? “Um... it fell out. I was just putting it back,” says Keith, hastily shoving the box into the coat._

_Shiro walks over to Keith and pulls the box out of the coat pocket. “I thought I would do this a little differently, with a nice dinner and all, but I guess nothing between us ever goes as planned.” He gets down on one knee and opens the box. A small, silver band with ruby accents stares up at Keith. “Keith Kogane, will you marry me?”_

_Keith feels like it’s a miracle that he doesn’t start sobbing then and there. He nods, fast and furious. “Yes! Hell yes! Fuck yes! A million times yes!” Shiro immediately stands and gathers Keith into his arms and the two hold each other as hard as they can._

_Later, there will be prodding from Keith about how exactly how Shiro had gotten the ring on his salary. For now, he wants nothing more than to hold his magnificent boyfriend as close to himself as he can._

 

Now all there is to be found is dust – dust, and Keith, alone.

It’s impossible for Keith to know how long he would have stayed on the floor had he been uninterrupted, but a harsh bang echoes out from the front of the house. Keith wonders if he is hallucinating. Another bang follows the first one. Keith groans and slowly picks himself off of the floor. His limbs feel like they’re moving through quicksand, still shaking slightly from his panic attack, but he manages to stand and shuffle over to the front door. He rips it open and frowns. “What is it?”

Hunk stared back at him, one eyebrow raised. “Wow, Keith, you look like trash.”

Keith glares back. He expects something like that from Pidge, maybe even Allura, but Hunk has always been nothing if not kind and gentle. Even so, it doesn’t stop him from moving to slam the front door closed. “If you’re just going to insult me, then fuck right off.”

Hunk stops the door. “Keith, I’m not here to give you shit. I’m here to help. No one’s heard from you in over a year. Honestly, we thought you might be dead.”

“Well, unfortunately, I’m not, so you can report that back to Allura and leave me alone.”

Hunk rolls his eyes. “I know being broody is sort of your thing, but honestly you’re not an angsty teenager anymore. I’m gonna make you some sort of functional dinner and you’re not gonna whine about it because otherwise, I’m gonna be here every morning banging on your door until I do. You know better than me that you need a good meal.”

Keith narrows his glare, but steps aside to let him in. He knows Hunk will follow through with his threat if provoked to. Hunk has had years of practice dealing with all of their personality problems. Within minutes, Hunk is firing up the stove. Keith stands in the doorway and watches him cook. The added heat makes Keith even more miserable and grouchy, but it’s in his best interest to have Hunk out of his house as fast as possible.

“It’s no wonder you look half dead. It has to be like one hundred degrees in here. Have you heard of air conditioning?”

Keith rolls his eyes at Hunk’s back even though Hunk can’t see it. “I’ll have you know that I was in town today to get my AC repaired. I’m doing just fine.”

Hunk waves a hand at the dirty dishes piled everywhere except for in the sink. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why this place looks like a trash pit.”

“Been busy.”

“Uh huh,” Hunk says but doesn’t push it.

Once Keith is certain that Hunk isn’t going to ask any more questions, he slinks out of the kitchen and crawls onto the couch. As the smell of cooking wafts out from the kitchen, he feels himself relax and fall into a half-slumber.

After a few moments, he’s shaken awake by Hunk. Keith groans. He’d hoped that Hunk had been just a figment of his imagination. “Come on. Dinner’s ready,” says Hunk, all but dragging him off of the couch.

“I can eat it here.” Keith is determined to cling on for dear life.

“I already set up the kitchen table. Come on, let’s pretend to be civilized.”

Keith sighs. He gets up off the couch and follows Hunk into the kitchen. He can tell that Hunk used the frozen chicken, rice, and vegetables that he’d bought earlier in the day, but there’s a distinct smell that makes Keith realize that Hunk had gone into his spice cabinet. Keith doesn’t remember the last time he actually cared enough about how his food tasted to spice it.

The two of them sit across each other at the small kitchen table. Without saying a word, Keith cuts the chicken and pushes it into his mouth mechanically. Immediately, the flavors hit. He shoves some of the rice into his mouth, and he once again is taken aback by how amazing it tastes. He doesn’t stop eating until his plate is clear. Apparently, he’d missed Hunk’s cooking more than he’d expected.

When he’s done, he looks up to see Hunk staring at him in complete shock, his food only half eaten. Keith feels his face heat up and he looks away. “I guess I needed that. Thanks.”

Hunk’s expression breaks into a giant grin. “I knew you were full of shit, Kogane.” He pushes his plate at Keith. “Here, have the rest.”

Keith stares at the plate for a few moments then pulls it toward himself and inhales Hunk’s portion about as fast as he had his own. He looks up at Hunk when he’s done, a bit embarrassed, but Hunk wordlessly picks up the plates and goes to the sink. Keith moves to get up – the least he can do for Hunk is clean the dishes, but Hunk waves him off and Keith knows not to argue. Keith sits back down and crosses his legs.

“So what were you doing out here in the middle of nowhere?” says Keith, deciding that staying silent was too awkward even for him.

Hunk pauses and Keith feels like he’s struck a nerve, but then Hunk says, “I didn’t really know what to do so I came back to Earth and just started wandering between military bases. Sometimes they would send me on missions.”

Keith raises his eyebrows. “What about Voltron?”

“It felt kind of weird with the new pilots. I’m not really leadership material, but suddenly I was the most qualified to fly Black and I felt like they were probably better off finding someone else.”

“And Lance just let you go just like that? Or did he come with you?”

There is a loud crash as the plate slips from Hunk’s hand into the sink. Hunk jumps back, pulling his hands out of the shattered glass. Keith jumps to his feet and runs to the sink, grabbing the paper towels.

“Shit, sorry!” says Hunk, eyes wide as he moves to help Keith.

“I got it, don’t worry about it. All of my stuff is old as shit, anyway,” says Keith, getting the last of the pieces he can see. “But I guess Lance is a touchy subject?”

Hunk looks away. “Keith, Lance is dead.”

Keith freezes. “What?”

“It happened two years ago during a mission. Since Pidge and me were the last two Paladin’s from the old team left, we decided to leave. We figured it’d be easier on Allura if she just found a whole new team.”

Keith puts his hand on Hunk’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I know how much he meant to you.”

Hunk closes his eyes and sighs. “Yeah. I mean, how much he meant to all of us really. I know you two didn’t get along that well, but I know deep down the two of you considered each other friends. I just – sometimes I wish I could have been there, you know? So I could have tried to stop it.”

Keith fights back the memories of red, his whole body tensing. “Being there doesn’t help. I still see it, you know? Shiro’s body – every time I close my eyes, I can see him. I think a lot about what I could have done, should have done, but I don’t think there was anything. Having that image in your head; it just makes everything worse.”

Hunk ducks his head, likely to hide the oncoming tears from Keith, but Keith can tell he’s about to cry from the way that he’s shaking. “I know logically that’s true, but it’s so easy to blame myself.”

Keith slowly wraps his arms around Hunk, pulling him into a stiff hug. If Keith is to be honest, it’s as much for Hunk’s benefit as it is to his own. Hunk tucks Keith’s head under his chin as best as he can and tightens his hold. Keith doesn’t remember the last time he was this close to another person, especially someone from Team Voltron. They had all been friends once, best friends, and maybe Keith had been a fool to think that Voltron had needed him more than he had needed Voltron.

When they had first discovered Voltron, the threat of war had felt more like a pretext for endless exploration. The wide expanse of the universe had stretched out in front of them and all they’d had to do was experience it. Zarkon had been a threat, but Voltron seemed like an unstoppable machine even with their immaturity. For all their fears, their desire for exploration shone stronger than anything else. The reality they are living now, half of them dead and the other half scattered throughout the Universe, would have seemed farfetched back then.

All too soon, Hunk begins to pull out of the hug. Keith longs to pull him back, but he restrains himself. “It’s gonna be dark soon. I should get back,” says Hunk, shifting from foot to foot.

Keith finds himself saying, “You’re welcome to stay here for the night.” He doesn’t know why he says it, isn’t even sure it’s what he wants.

Hunk’s eyes go wide. “Really? Is that okay?”

Keith nods tentatively. “You chased me across the desert and then fed me. Might as well get rewarded for your efforts.”

Hunk smiles a face splitting grin that is reminiscent of a version of him long dead. There's a pang in Keith's stomach. He turns away from Hunk and says, "I normally either go to bed or get work done at this point, but I can try to dig up a movie. Might even have some of my dad's ancient blu-rays."

"Oh man, I haven't seen a blu-ray since I was, like, five." Hunk scratches the back of his neck and lets out a bit of a chuckle. "Yeah, let’s do it!"

The two of them move into the living room. Keith feels a sense of calm, but there's a bit of nervous energy bubbling at the back of his mind. Hunk sits down on the couch and looks up at Keith expectantly. The image is reminiscent of a time long ago, when Shiro had sat on that very same couch waiting for Keith to finish making dinner.

Keith crosses the distance between them and crawls straight into Hunk’s lap. Their mouths meet with a sense of urgent desperation. By the time Keith realizes what he's doing, he’s ready to throw himself into the nearest hole, but Hunk places a hand on the back of his neck and deepens the kiss. Keith melts into Hunk and sees stars.

He feels Hunk's hands on his back, under his shirt. He can't help but grind himself against Hunk, chasing a feeling he’s not sure he remembers. Hunk moans against his lips, and Keith feels it more than he can hear it. Before Keith can react, he’s flipped onto his back. He looks up to see Hunk towering over him. Hunk pulls his shirt off, revealing muscles cultivated from nearly a decade of military training. He grabs Keith's shirt and pulls it over his head.

Keith pulls Hunk down for another kiss and immediately, he can't help but remember the feel of Shiro's rough, naked skin against his own. Keith would map the scars scattered throughout Shiro's body with his fingers and his tongue. The first time they'd had sex, Shiro had been nervous about taking off his shirt. He'd said that he didn't want to scare Keith, but nothing about Shiro could have ever scared Keith.

That first night had been the one and only time that Shiro's stubbornness had beaten Keith’s. Back then, Keith had also found himself naked on his back looking up.

 

_Shiro presses his open mouth to Keith's jaw. "I know it's probably gonna sound like I'm full of shit, but fuck, you are the most beautiful being in the universe."_

_Keith laughs as Shiro kisses down his neck. "You're right; you are full of shit." One of Shiro's hands makes its way into Keith's hair and tugs lightly. Shiro kisses across Keith's collarbone, leaving Keith's skin aflame. Keith arches against Shiro, his naked cock brushing against Shiro's clothed one. Shiro hooks his arms under Keith's legs and hoists them onto his shoulders so his face is lined up exactly where Keith wants it most. Shiro looks up before giving Keith an experimental lick. A warm spreads over Keith's body and he can't help but moan._

_"You like that?" Only Shiro can make that question sound legitimately curious on top of drop-dead sexy._

_Keith nods as fast as he can. "Yes, yes, god, yes, Shiro! For the love of everything, just fucking blow me!"_

_Shiro grins and gets righ-_

"Keith! What the hell?" Keith snaps his eyes open to stare up at a very off put and mostly naked Hunk. Keith realizes he himself is crying and completely naked. Hunk moves back and Keith sits up, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands. "I'm sorry, I know we're just sad because we miss Lance and Shiro and this doesn’t mean anything, but you calling Shiro's name in the middle of things is just a bit weird for me,” says Hunk, looking like he’s ready to jump out of his skin.

"No, it's fine, I'm the one who should be sorry. That was a fucked up thing to do. I'm sorry," says Keith, no longer able to meet Hunk’s eyes. He can't tell Hunk that he doesn't remember how they went from kissing to just seconds away from Hunk going down on him.

"Should we... uh... should we continue?" asks Hunk, looking around awkwardly.

Keith slides off of the couch and grabs his boxers off of the floor, pulling them on. "I... I think it’s best if we didn’t.”

Keith expects Hunk to look more dejected, but instead there is a relieved expression on his face. Hunk stands up and scratches his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, it’s probably for the best if we just pretend it never happened.” He starts picking up his clothes off of the floor and pulls them on. “Are you okay?” Keith nods slowly while Hunk finishes buckling his belt. “Okay, then I might head out after all. Um... it’s probably a good idea for us to get some space to clear our heads. But I promise I’ll be back tomorrow morning, okay? I’m not abandoning you.”

Keith nods slowly. “Y-yeah. Of course. I gotta handle some stuff for work anyway.”

“Alright. I’ll bring breakfast.” He pulls on his boots and opens the door. “Good night. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Keith waves Hunk out and the door slams behind him. Keith’s knees begin to shake and he presses his back against the door to stop himself from collapsing. He takes deep breaths, desperate to calm his rapidly beating heart. The world is spinning.

The image of Shiro is sheered into his head. Shiro is smiling, laughing, gathering Keith into a hug. Shiro is looking at him with the kindest expression. Shiro’s hands are on his thighs; Shiro’s mouth is on his cock. Keith had been sure that he was finally over this, but the truth is that no matter what he does or where he goes, he can’t stop thinking about Shiro. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Shiro’s corpse lying on the ground, the blood pooling all around.

Keith slowly pushes himself off of the door and stumbles into his bedroom, his legs reminiscent of a newborn baby deer. On his way, he picks up the clothes that he must have discarded only a few minutes ago. He puts them back on and picks up his backpack, filling it with anything he can get his hands on. When the backpack’s full, he pulls it closed and slings it over his back.

Keith opens the front door and sees the large expanse of the desert stretching out in front of him. The air is cold, the daytime heat having long ago dissipated. There’s nowhere for it to hide; there is nothing but sand and rock for miles. A soft breeze blows past him, ruffling his hair and sending a shiver down his bare arms.

The desert is endless, darkness as far as the eye can see. There’s a sinister aura, a sense of solitude and disorientation present even in the smallest crevices. At first glance, the desert seems to be the most barren place in the whole universe. Only when one looks closer do they see its true wonderment. It’s a place to find one’s self and to lose one’s self. There’s a soulful, lonely beauty there that many have come to discover over the years.

Keith begins walking in an arbitrary direction. As he gets farther away, the lights of his childhood home disappear into the distance, and the darkness gathers him into its eternal embrace.


End file.
